


I'm going on

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Series: Climb Up Above Your Precious Time [6]
Category: The Brothers Grimm (2005)
Genre: Angst, Assault, Atonement - Freeform, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Brainwashing, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Captivity, Confessions, Crisis of Faith, Depression, Desperation, Dreamsharing, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Exhaustion, Family, Fear, Fear of Abandonment, Gen, Guilt, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Anguish, Mental Coercion, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Protectiveness, Regret, Resurrection, Self-Esteem Issues, Serious Injuries, Sleep Deprivation, Spells & Enchantments, Temptation, Torture, Trapped, Writing, h/c_bingo, hostages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: You claimIam selfish. But, tell me, dear one, what is a fairy tale without sacrifices? You claim to have wronged your brother, you claim also that you have remedied that, but I know your heart. I have tasted it when you were too bitter to do so.
Series: Climb Up Above Your Precious Time [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085234
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 11





	I'm going on

**Author's Note:**

> Written for h/c_bingo as a postage stamp extra with these prompts: brainwashing/deprogramming, crisis of faith, assault and WILD CARD (atonement).

[ _climb up above your precious time_ ]

* * *

Ninety-six hours of being kept from sleep left Will very nearly banging his head against the wall, or rather, Jake’s now wholly unrealistic iron-clad arguments.

It was the most practical solution they had given Jake’s inspired writings had led to nothing as of yet, only occasions for _her_ \- the Mirror Queen evil itself had seen fit to resurrect - to sigh haughtily at his apparent writer’s block, a constant chill wind nipping at Will’s spine.

It was entirely reasonable to want her kept away, her corrupting influence unable to play with his memories and inhibitions like fingers perusing forbidden material. If Will hadn’t had just enough self-preservation remaining, he might have been tempted to mention that that was the easiest way, that she made everything so _easy._ It wasn’t that he was lust-driven or even purpose-starved, blinded by infatuation, desperate to serve, only that the enchantment she weaved was infallible, inexhaustible, so deviously and _gloriously_ inviting. It was a tantalizing, seemingly merciful magic that pulled him in, and in that way he understood the lure Jacob had and _that_ was what terrified him. Hers was ancient, dark magic; Jake’s was mere whimsy.

Among the growing list of sins he could not share with his dear brother.

And yet as easy as she made it, to fall back into her, she was beginning to take her toll.

The lack of sleep, the forlorn appetite at times bloating and other moments squeezing internal organs until they were gasping for any sustenance, the _weight_ of her inside his head, shuttering any ideas he might have had, daggers of warning embedding themselves into his faith in Jake…

Dangerously, _wonderfully_ close to sleep, she was even now laughing in the background, simmering at a low heat, brazen and beautiful, her infinite patience on permanent display. That was a little something that always seemed to slip his mind, and Jacob’s no doubt, that she had been waiting an eternity, biding her time, content to let the world play out around her because she was sure in her ability to conquer it, to leash it under her will.

Jake, at long last, let him sleep, words spoken Will couldn’t clearly remember, the light pressure pressed into his hand following him wherever he would go. _Jake will keep working, he’ll find a way. He won’t leave me here._

_But you believe in me, right, Will? You did… then._

Had it been belief that had kept Jake warm all those years, belief in a magic that had damned them, or had it been sheer stubbornness? Regardless, it was beyond Will now, for the moment, forever if Jake did not find some way.

“Back again to play, my _golden_ prince?”

There was a shimmering beside Will, a presence he recognized, an intuition he never would have believed he possessed.

“No,” he breathed. “You harlot, you…” An invisible hand squeezed around his throat, her mere touch like an infection peeling back his skin, dropping him down to his knees with the foolish shock of it rather than the pain, but _oh, the pain…_ the floor glass again, shards slicing into fingertips like twisted love nips. He would have been determined to crawl through it, stinging wounds and scars be damned, except that Jake was insisting he not, begging her to stop and thereby feeding her everything she wanted.

The hand was released and Will blinked stars away for a few frightening minutes. The warmth of his brother sealed itself to his back but there was no touch, no flesh permitted him but hers. For a moment, he wondered whether Jake had found some loophole, a path to follow him, but something even more horrific dawned on him: she was infatuated with his little brother, determined to have him in Will’s place given all the trouble they had waged against her.

Worse than the revulsion was the utter sense of hopelessness, that Will could not write his way out of his own failings so how might he write Jacob out of her capricious fate for him?

And then there was the likely probability that she could read every _one_ of his thoughts.

“Jake…,” the hoarseness of his voice precipitated another choking fit. Her blazing, deceptively angelic light seared his eyes and he could not blink her away. Jake was fretting next to him for all the good it did, emitting low, almost keening noises echoing an imminent loss Will could scarce reciprocate given his current state of soul-searing pain.

“Tell me, dear Jacob, should I spare Will? Did you learn your lesson after sweet little Charlotte?”

_Lotte…_ Will struggled to breathe… _how dare she…_

She ignored him in favor of continuing to taunt his brother. “To think that you had the presumption you could wield such magic, a mere _child.”_

He could sense Jacob crawling back into himself, recognizing he was doing no good here, even though the heat of him was warmer than any fire, even though Will was so happy he was here and not alone subject to her whims. He screamed against her nearly debilitating hold as he reached out, managing to grasp a shoulder, startling the most important person in his life back into awareness. “Will…,” a breathless voice answered his inner plea and Will nodded, maneuvering his tongue to speak the only words that mattered now.

“Finish it.”

“I don’t…,” Jake cut himself off abruptly, realizing his self-pity had no place here when Will had scarce left to give.

“The dear, sweet, noble brothers. One, so terrified of magic it was _delightfully_ easy to ensnare him…”

He could feel Jake’s stare peeling him apart, painstakingly neutralized his face so he would give nothing away. He was not ashamed of his fear, only that Jake had never glimpsed deep enough to know it, given Will viewed himself as not being all that adept at hiding his true feelings.

And yet that fear was the reason behind both their temptations: the need to understand magic and the need to be closer to it.

She was so confident and how could she not be? She knew them better than they knew themselves; her words could cut physically what they could only slice themselves open with emotionally. “…And the other so determined to wield it that he would almost sell his innocent soul. Then again, Jacob, you’re not so innocent, are you? With the death of both your kin on your hands, no matter Wilhelm’s resurrection at the _last_ possible moment, what will your _innocent_ desires cost you next?”

“Stop this,” Will gasped out. His brother didn’t deserve such a lashing and as often as Will had pestered - _taunted_ \- him over the years about those cursed beans and the plague that had followed them thereafter, it was truly short-tempered and even shorter-lived. He would do anything to keep his brother with him and nothing Jake could ever do would change that.

Even… the worst alternative.

He had faith that Jake could break her spell, yes, yet he wasn’t entirely sure he would not be rejected in favor of magic, no matter what form. It was a scar that she had just reopened and yet he had already done the same minutes prior. That was the painful bit of it, how she couldn’t jump the gun ahead of him; she might remind him but she didn’t plant the thought, no, that was _all_ him. He was selfish enough that he didn’t view this as a piteous distraction when he had only just been accusing Jake of succumbing to the very same.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jake threw at her. “Will has both feet planted firmly in _our_ world. I would rather never lose sight of that then keep my head stuck solely in the clouds. I would rather give up all hope of magic,” he clarified, aiming to strike a blow. “Especially if _this_ is meant to be a version of a happy ending.”

That seemed to enrage the queen but not enough for her to show it. No, Will could _feel_ her, could feel her taking her brother’s words out on him, the small cuts carved into the base of his neck, his blood burning as it spilled down his back. Jake’s hands were soon slick with it, every press of his fingers against the newfound puncture marks a dizzying reminder of just how frail and human they were.

That was when Will saw the journal, his brother’s blood-soaked fingers releasing him to clutch the pages, scribbling god knew what with only a few distracted glances, much of his attention still on her and alternately on Will’s condition. Will, whose vision was blurring from blood-loss and pain-driven exhaustion, every word he caught, every letter dripping with longing as _Lotte Lotte Lotte…_

So this is what Jake spent his days slaving over, while Will was cut and bled and then the process reversed so she could do it all over again, rewriting the story of their lives, perhaps exchanging him for Lotte, perhaps resurrecting their little sister and living quiet, content, _separate_ lives.

Then again, maybe it was Will’s fault that he couldn’t possibly see their past in any other light.

It did not mean he did not miss Lotte, or blame himself for her death and their poor mother’s soon after. It did not mean he did not wish he had taken her place. The life he had carved out with Jake was far from perfect, but it was all he knew and came to depend upon. If he did not have his brother then he was nothing, could do nothing, could _be_ nothing.

But selfish and indifferent as he had been, he had not stopped to ask himself if Jake felt the same way, only taking for granted that their hearts were one, so different at times, yes, but still _one._

_One, you claim. Oh, poor, broken Wilhelm. Do you not see how you, yourself, have been holding your brother hostage? He could truly shine without you. If I tore you away from him, I would be doing him a favor. And you… there will be no fear for you with me. You need never feel any pain again._

_No,_ Will bit down on his rage. _Only servitude._

_And you claim_ I _am selfish. But, tell me, dear one, what is a fairy tale without sacrifices? You claim to have wronged your brother, you claim also that you have remedied that, but I know your heart. I have tasted it when you were too bitter to do so._

_Jacob can make his own decisions,_ he countered _._ He recognized this as the final torment of her spell. Maybe she had brought Jake here and yet maybe she hadn’t; it didn’t matter because Jake wouldn’t make his choice and she knew it. His brother would remain trapped here, unable to go back without him, unwilling to take his place because he knew he wasn’t what she wanted. It was strange to realize that now, that she seemed hellbent on teaching his brother a lesson more than laying claim to him.

There must have been something he missed, something between them that explained the rejection in her eyes.

Her eyes smoldered and tore him open.

It didn’t hurt but it was cold, a brutal, voraciously _hungry_ cold, eating away at all warmth, feeding on any lingering traces of belonging and of _love…_

_Jacob…_

Fingers were scratching back and forth on the page, moving so furiously from line to line but likely not quickly enough, Will near to losing consciousness. His blood stained his brother’s hands, a grotesque portrait of Jake’s desperation, and more blood poured out onto the pages until Will doubted anyone could read what was being written but the author himself, words pouring out so rapidly he appeared most upset at the prospect of losing them before they could be committed by ink onto the page and therefore made permanent.

She didn’t stop him; maybe she had no power over him here, over these words, or maybe she just didn’t care.

He waited and bled, hands holding himself together in vain, only able to paint Jake’s pages and breathe long enough to keep his little brother focused.

_Sealed in blood._

Will blinked past the looming unconsciousness. He could be mistaken but the expression in his brother’s eyes was the most intense he had ever seen. Something was there, something not even his blood could obscure on the page.

He glanced down, the darkness crowding in on him allowing him to hone in on a series of lines, some crossed out though still readable and the edited versions scrawled hastily below. His blood seemed to part in greeting among these very lines, the words becoming clearer as he forced himself to finish.

~~_Their dear sister, saved, the golden beans spilling from her lips._ ~~

_Their dear sister, stolen, taken into God’s merciful hands._

_Pride,_ he blearily came to understand, it was as much a curse as the Mirror Queen’s vanity was. It was vanity that had sealed her inside that ancient tower, doomed to remain in that withering carcass, encased inside that enchanted mirror; a vanity that had led to her quest for immortality in the first place. It was pride that kept Jake clinging onto magic, clinging onto a past that he could only change in his beloved stories.

That was why he lived in them, just as stuck as the queen herself, just as _blinded._

He could feel her hold on him slipping, though overwhelmingly reasoned that the damage was already done. There were wounds in him that could not be healed, his own pride draining him all these years and feeding on the last drops of him now. They had both been blind.

And they had both took _everything_ , especially each other, for granted.

Jake smoothed out the pages but when he spoke it wasn’t from them and his sentiments were for Will alone.

“Terrible things happen in fairy tales, Will, but so do good. I may have lost a sister, but I gained a best friend. _You._ You were my solace when for so long I viewed you as my punishment. You were the guilt I could never shed. When all that time, all those years, I should have realized that God left me you, _gave_ me you. A brother, to balance me out. A brother, so that I didn’t have to be alone. A brother, so that I could do it right the second time around. Another chance to save a sibling, another chance to love a sibling. I do have my magic beans. It’s faith in God, it’s faith that his will is as it should be. All those years, I never stopped believing in the magic, but I stopped believing in God. I stopped believing in _us._ So I’m going to start believing in you now, Will.”

The Mirror Queen was but a shadow to them now, though one that had left a deep, blistering imprint on them. Her screech died out abruptly like glass exploding, her vilely beautiful form and the shards of her beneath Will’s hands disintegrating to mere ash, sliding in between his fingers, mingling with his very blood.

_So much blood, so much pain, wounds that will never be healed…_

A hand snaked around the back of his neck, the other took both of Will’s hands into his lap and both those hands dug in tightly, squeezing, reawakening Will’s pain, his blood still flowing, pouring into the ash surrounding them.

“I know you can break free of her. I know it because you have never _once_ abandoned me. I know it because I know there’s nothing that could ever tear us apart. We’re the Brothers Grimm. And our love is _so_ much stronger than the power she holds over you, stronger than any magic.”

_The fear, the guilt, the regret, tainting every part of him…_

Jake still had not abandoned him, even though Will’s blood was soaking through their clothes, even though it was clear Will wasn’t hearing anything. “This time it’s you, Will. It’s your own mind keeping you here, your own fear.”

_And how do you not feel fear, brother? How can I survive in a world that seems to be of your own design? This magic, a trickster hellbent on playing games with our lives._

“Trust me. You believe in me, don’t you?”

Another slice, a jab at his hammering heart. The only way he could purge his fears was if he gave voice to them. “What if… what if this isn’t how our story ends?”

Jake’s brow creased as if finding this all so very amusing, mischievously biting back a smile. “Exactly, Will. Our story doesn’t end here.”

_Our story. He finished our story._

“The beloved brothers found one another again, their renewed love having broken the spell. See, Will, it’s right here. They lived happily ever after.” Jake was shaking him, bidding him to read, to trust his life to these blood-splattered pages. He was fading, the blood loss too severe, Jake’s grip so rough he could feel his organs rattling around inside his tormented body.

Will brushed the pages with numbing fingers, smiling faintly, content that their story was documented at last, satisfied enough to slip away into oblivion.


End file.
